Chapter 2

I plopped down next to Freda, ready to hash things out with her.

Freda snorted. "Yeah, no need for that. And you don't need to stick your nose into your cousin's drama, either."

With a fake smile, Freda shot up, threw on her coat, and as she headed out, helped herself to a box of the supplements I'd bought for Mom.

Once Freda left, Mom's face fell. She said, "Seriously, why do you talk to your aunt like that? She's matched up so many couples already.

"All your classmates are married off. I can't even hold my head up when the neighbors ask about you. How am I supposed to live like this?

"If you refuse these dates, just consider me dead. Don't bother coming home for the holidays ever again."

I finally managed to come home for once, and all Mom could think about was shoving me into blind dates, never mind if Freda was setting me up with total weirdos.

First day back home and I was already fighting with Mom, so I went to the supermarket to buy some groceries.

While I was picking out veggies, I bumped into Wendy, my neighbor. Her son's about 5'7" and weighs 180 pounds. She used to be hell-bent on marrying me off to him, but I called her out with a megaphone in the neighborhood until she finally backed off.

Wendy said, "Well, look. Diane! Home for the holidays? I heard from Freda you're still single. What's the use of a young girl running around outside all the time? No one's gonna want you in the end."

'Wendy is the neighborhood's top gossip,' I sneered. 'Seriously, what's it to her if I have a boyfriend or not?'

I gave her a sarcastic look and said, "Wendy, I heard your daughter-in-law went back to her folks last month and still hasn't come back. It's almost the holidays. She's still not home?"

Wendy's face fell instantly. She said, "She's so spoiled. Just because she had a baby, she thinks she can slack off and do nothing? Dream on.

"My son's driving a taxi now. He could pick any girl he wanted. Better if she doesn't come back. Who'd want a woman who's already married?

"You're already 26, almost 30. Give it a couple more years and you'll be left on the shelf. Nobody will want you. Back then I tried to set you up with my son and you refused. Now, even if you throw yourself at us, we wouldn't even want you."

I didn't know why Wendy got off being so smug. Her son? Please, anyone who wants him can have him.

She wanted to start something with me? No way I was letting her get away with it.

I shot a glance at the chubby little brat standing next to Wendy. That was her grandson, and honestly, he was just as annoying as she was.

But the real kicker? The kid was a world-class crybaby.

I crouched down, leaned in close, and whispered mischievously in his ear, "Your mom doesn't want you anymore. Your grandma's gonna find you a new mom."

As soon as the words left my mouth, the kid burst into loud, messy tears, making everyone in the supermarket turn to stare. Wendy was frantically trying to shush him.

Kids always got worse the more you tried to calm them down. When Wendy saw she couldn't quiet her grandson, she grabbed me and started yelling at the top of her lungs.

Wendy shouted, "Everyone, come look. The Bradshaw girl just got back and she's already picking on me, an old lady, and even my poor grandson."

Wendy kept wailing, clutching her grandson like I'd committed some unforgivable crime.

With Wendy stirring things up, all the neighbors who knew us started piling on, everyone talking over each other to scold me.

One of them said, "What's wrong with you, Diane? Wendy's just trying to help. Even if you don't appreciate it, you can't go around picking on an old lady and a kid."

Another chimed in, "Seriously, all that schooling and you still turned out like this? You haven't even made a name for yourself, and now you're back home bullying the neighbors."

Someone else snickered, "Well, it's true. Once you're older, it's tough to find a man. Bet you're kicking yourself for not marrying Wendy's son now, huh?"

'So what, being single is a crime now? It's not like I owe them anything.' I shot Wendy a fierce glare. 'Faking tears, huh, Wendy? Like I can't pull that off myself.'